Mind Your Language
by GeneImperfect
Summary: Sequel to 'Cheaters Never Prosper'- read that first.  A boarding-school AU.  Lovino learns not to talk about Professor Kirkland behind his back.  WARNINGS: caning, mouth soaping, dubious consent.  Kinkmeme de-anon.


**A/N:** This is a sequel to my fic Cheaters Never Prosper, which I recommend reading before this one if you haven't read it yet, because a lot of the plot here is heavily affected by what happens in that story.

This story is based on a roleplay I did with /~sephielyajmaxwell. It's a boarding-school AU, with England and South Italy from Axis Powers Hetalia as a sadistic teacher and a rich, snotty student, respectively. Essentially, some shameless English-school erotica. Originally edited into a fic for the Hetalia kinkmeme, but I put so much effort into editing it I've decided to share it elsewhere. Not to mention it's hot. Really hot.

Warnings: Like all good English school erotica, this story includes a corporal punishment/caning scene. Additionally, there is dubcon oral sex. Consider yourself warned (or encouraged, depending on your tastes). Simply put, if you don't like those things, don't read the fic; if you do, please enjoy!

* * *

><p>Lovino was walking down a hallway in one of the oldest and largest buildings at the academy, a venerable old work of architecture complete with marble steps and vaulted ceilings. In this building, as might seem appropriate, classes in History and Classics were taught, and their respective professors all had their offices here as well. The Italian student wasn't considering the effect the architectural style of the building would have on its acoustics, however, as he complained loudly to a fellow student about one of their professors. "No, don't you even<em> try<em> to defend Kirkland! He's a miserable old bastard. Those tests of his are so full of _shit_, the question reads like he wants your opinion, but if you don't regurgitate what he spews in class and pretend to add some insightful bullshit, you're screwed. Same thing with essays. He doesn't give a damn. No, I'm not just saying that because he caught me that time first term... I studied for fucking _hours_ and I didn't break an 80%. Who the fuck knows how he got such an enormous stick up his ass! He probably needs to get laid!" Lovino snorted, though it wasn't at all an amused laugh. "I just can't fucking stand that asshole!"

The Italian hadn't noticed the fact that one of the doors in this hallway was cracked open, as Professor Weilschmidt, one of the Latin instructors, was expecting a student. Sitting in his office, the man's eyes widened in disgust behind his thick-rimmed glasses, and he listened intently to every word that echoed through the hallway. That hearty southern-Italian accent could only belong to one student, and curiously enough, it was the very student Arthur had put out a warning on. And no wonder! With a mouth that filthy, one could only imagine what other rules the boy had broken in the past, Weilschmidt thought. Once the sounds had left the hallway, he picked up his phone and dialed Arthur Kirkland's office number, certain that the other would be _interested_ to hear all this.

Honestly, Arthur was surprised to that it had taken even this long for word to get back to him about Lovino's behavior. The ill-tempered Italian was bound to get himself into trouble again sooner or later, so Arthur hadn't gone out of his way to look for it, and that call gave him just enough cause to send a message through to Lovino's last class, telling him that he was expected in Arthur's office at the end of the day. The halls would be empty by that time, and it left Arthur with the perfect area for his worthy plan of punishment. He waited in his office for the Italian to arrive, and if the boy knew better this time, he would _not _be 20 minutes late.

Lovino was surprised at the message he received to report to Professor Kirkland's office immediately following his last class. He hadn't done anything against the rules—nothing he could think of anyway—so it couldn't be that he was in trouble again somehow. Perhaps it had to do with his progress in class? But Lovino had been doing much better recently, having felt more motivated to study since the last time he'd been to visit his instructor. Wondering exactly what it was the other wanted of him, he made his way directly to Kirkland's office after his final class was let out, and found himself knocking again on the solid wooden door.

"Come in," the professor called out, bidding his student to enter. Upon hearing that voice, Lovino opened the door and stepped into Professor Kirkland's office, his eyebrows raised questioningly as if wondering what exactly he was doing here. Seated at his desk, Arthur indicated the chair in front of his desk when Lovino came over, and the student seated himself as directed and looked up at the man curiously. Once he had sat down, the Englishman folded his hands together on top of the desk. "I must say, Mr. Vargas," Arthur always seemed to use that mockery of respect when dealing with troublesome students, "I have been quite impressed by your work so far in order to make progress on your studies. You've been doing well... _scholastically._" He cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair now and crossing his arms.

Lovino was relieved at first. Was this really about class? And he was doing well? That was a relief. But then that throat cleared dangerously, and he recognized instantly that not only was there more coming, it was more that he wouldn't like. "So you can imagine my displeasure when I got a call earlier, from a Professor Weilschmidt? You don't take Latin yet, do you?" Lovino shook his head. _Weilschmidt_... the name was familiar, but Lovino was having trouble matching it to a face. "Well, he knew you well enough. Or he knew your _voice._" And with that, the Italian's eyes widened. Oh _shit_. "Do you care to repeat to me what you said in the halls, Mr. Vargas?"

It had finally dawned upon Lovino just what he was doing here. "Wait, what I said in the _hallway_? I'm not seriously here because I'm in trouble for something I said that wasn't even _in class_!" Lovino's voice was getting progressively louder, as his indignance was growing. "What business is it of anyone else's how I speak when I'm outside of class, professor? It's not relevant to my schooling, and that's what I'm here for!"

Arthur didn't take well to having _anyone's _voice risen to him, his eyebrow twitching the moment that Lovino's volume had gone up. When the young man was finished, Arthur stood quickly, grabbing a cane from where it had been propped up behind his desk. _Crack_! It slammed down onto the desk with good force, the harsh, sudden sound startling Lovino heavily and causing him to jump in his seat. He leaned his body as far back away from the professor as possible as the man interrupted him, his back pressing firmly against the back of the chair.

"While you are in my office, I would advise you to keep your insolent voice _down_!" He snapped, losing all cool composure for a moment. This was different from before; Arthur was genuinely _irritated _over this matter. This wasn't some test that had been cheated on, some impersonal rule broken—Lovino had been bad-mouthing him behind his back! And with that choice of words... He cleared his throat again, his voice lowering back to normal. "Now... I feel the need to remind you that school is a place of _learning, _and _not _for little boys to slag off about their teachers whilst lazing about in the halls! _Now,_" he tapped the cane to the desk a few times, his tone increasing in intensity, "do you care to repeat what you said?"

Lovino's eyes followed that cane as it tapped testily against the surface of the desk, partly because he was fixated on the implement in fear and partly because he didn't want to look Kirkland in the face right now. He swallowed, then spoke through his teeth in a voice that was just as indignant, but much less loud, "You _really_ want me to repeat what I said earlier?" The other had obviously been told exactly what Lovino had said, so repeating it couldn't bring much more wrath down upon him, right? "Fine," he began at a normal speaking volume, which again gradually increased as he went on without his even noticing, "I called you a miserable old bastard, and I said that you're full of shit when you grade! I said you're an asshole and I can't fucking stand you! And after being treated the way I was, can you blame me?" He crossed his arms stubbornly and leaned back in the chair.

Arthur felt all of that irritation come flooding back in ten-fold, and it only got worse as that insolent voice rose up again, wearing on the professor's nerves until he couldn't stand it any longer. Reaching down to the drawer on his side of the desk, he opened it and retrieved a small box. Shoving it into his pocket, he walked around the side of the desk, then grabbed ahold of Lovino's upper arm with a grip nearly firm enough to be bruising. The chair in which Lovino had been seated nearly toppled over as he was jerked up roughly by the arm and raised into a standing position. "Ow! What the hell?" he yelped as he was dragged unsympathetically toward the door. Kirkland was holding the cane in one hand and gripping Lovino's arm in the other, so it took him a few seconds to maneuver the door handle, but soon enough the man had opened it and was dragging him out into the hallway. He tried to resist, tugging against the other's painful grip on his arm, but in spite of his stature, the Englishman was surprisingly strong and overpowered the younger Italian, who would never have been described as muscular. He hoped no one saw him who would recognize him as the two made their way across the hall. Not caring if there were still a few students lingering there, Arthur pulled Lovino to the men's bathrooms, pushing him in ahead of himself. No one was in there, so he locked the door behind them.

Lovino's body lurched forward when Kirkland shoved him into the room before him, and he stumbled in, barely managing to catch himself against the opposite wall rather than falling over. Even so, his palms stung slightly from smacking into the solid wall. He was still more irritated than scared at this point, turning to face the instructor and spitting out a "The fuck are we doing in here?" and glaring viciously, though his eyes widened as he noticed the other lock the door. He tried to take a step back, but the wall behind him left him with no escape from the Englishman, who was rapidly approaching with a dangerous expression upon his face.

Arthur knew, objectively, that he needed to calm down. It was a matter of principle—to always compose oneself in a respectable manner, to keep a lid on one's anger, and so on... but right now he was quite furious, and unfortunately for Lovino, he allowed it to get the better of him. Swinging the cane hard, it snapped with a loud _crack _against the side of the student's left thigh.

"_Ahhhh!_" Lovino cried out when the blow landed, cringing and trying to shield himself, but to no avail. The student's leg began to throb, and he could already tell he was in for a nasty bruise there.

"How do you like that, Vargas? I bought this one _especially for you_, you know." He swung it again and struck sharply, the cane narrowly but clearly skillfully missing Lovino's hand. "You said one other thing, didn't you? Something about me getting _laid. _Well now, if I needed _that_ then it reflects poorly on _you _too, no?"

Oh _shit_, he had said that too, hadn't he? _That_ wasn't going to bode well for him, he could already tell that much... Unfortunately, as desperately as he wanted to do so, Lovino couldn't run away; with his back to the wall and Kirkland in front of him, there was nowhere for him to go in the small room.

Arthur set the cane down now, leaning it against the door as he walked over towards the Italian. Lovino was relieved to see the cane set down, but there was something very menacing in the way Kirkland was stepping toward the sink... Reaching into his pocket, the professor pulled out that small cardboard box again, then opened it to produce a brand new bar of soap. "I find that when dealing with naughty boys with filthy mouths, the best thing to do," he turned on the water in one of the sinks, holding the soap under it for a moment before pulling it back and turning the flow of water off, "is to _clean them_." This time he reached out to grasp the back of Lovino's hair, fingers gripping tight enough to pull a few strands free of that head. Tilting the boy's head back, he placed the soap at his lips. "_Open_," he ordered with a dangerous growl.

Lovino didn't realize what Kirkland was doing at first, and by the time he had finally figured out just what that bar in the teacher's hand _was_, it was already pressed against his lips, and its scent invading his nostrils. He pressed them tightly shut and tried to push the other away with his hands, but the Englishman's hand that was gripping his hair simply tugged harder in response, causing Lovino to cry out. This, of course, was enough clearance for the soap to make its way in, and the Italian was soon gagging on its acrid taste. The bar may have smelled fresh when it was still resting under his nose, but once in his mouth it was bitter and basic and made him want to choke. His face contorted horribly; his tastebuds were quite sensitive, and he really couldn't handle things like this.

Arthur gave a satisfied grin when that mouth opened, muffling that shout with the soap. He kept a good grip on it as he used the hand in his student's hair to urge him towards the sink. With his hair being tugged painfully, Lovino acquiesced and walked over to it behind Kirkland in several large strides, though he was now limping a bit from the unmerciful blows which had been dealt to his thigh just minutes before.

Forcing the boy's body to bend over the sink, Arthur now began to push the soap back and forth—taking care not to pull it out far enough for his mouth to be allowed to close, of course. "Ah, that's more like it! Let's get that mouth nice and _clean, _shall we?" Arthur's voice had suddenly become quite cheery as he washed that mouth until lather was forming at Lovino's lips.

The friction of the bar against his wet tongue and lips was producing an incredible amount of suds in the Italian student's mouth. It felt as though the bubbles were threatening to force their way down his throat, and he started to gag uncontrollably. Not to mention the horrific taste, which was quickly becoming overwhelming; that _taste_ only made his throat lurch even more powerfully. His entire body heaved, and his eyes even began to tear up at how harsh and bitter it was.

Pulling the bar of soap out at last, Arthur kept a hold of his hair and made sure he stayed bent over the sink. "Spit," he said firmly, and he was quite sure that Lovino would be willing to do so. There was plenty of saliva worked up from the irritation and taste by then, not to meniton a good mouthful of lather. He wasn't wrong in his assumption; Lovino gratefully took the opportunity to spit out all the lather and saliva, coughing and sputtering as he did so. He did his best to eliminate absolutely everything from his mouth, and even a tear or two which leaked over when he shut his eyes as he coughed and spat.

Once he'd decided the Italian had spit enough, Arthur shoved that soap right back in. "Hold it there," he demanded, "or I'm going to make you _wish _you had! Stay bent over the sink, hands on either side of it."

Lovino let out a surprised cry at that little cruelty, though it was muffled by the bar which had now been returned to his mouth. The Italian almost couldn't stand it, but he did his best to hold it in his mouth for now, as he couldn't even _imagine_ what might make his situation worse. The harshness in Kirkland's voice convinced him that he had better listen this time, no matter how he felt about it. His hands gripped the sink on either side, his torso lurching forward every so often as the taste of the soap caused him to gag fiercely.

Arthur was content with Lovino's compliance for now, his anger reasonably sated by the good soaping he'd given that foul mouth. He still had his issues with the boy, of course, but nothing he couldn't work through right now… Satisfied that the student would remain in place, he let go with both hands, lowering them to start undoing Lovino's trousers. The Italian's eyes widened at that, and he shook his head hard as if to beg Kirkland not to do whatever it was he was planning. Even so, he remained bent over, his hands shaking as they gripped the sink even more tightly in his desperation.

Once Lovino's pants were undone, Arthur shoved them down to the brunette's knees along with whatever he wore under them. When they were down, he moved over to the cane, lifting it from where it had been propped against the door. Approaching the student again, he gave it a _swish_ through the air without hitting anything. Lovino cringed visibly at that god-awful sound, knowing exactly what it indicated was going to be coming next. "I can see now that your bad behavior is not limited to cheating on tests. If you have the time to mouth off about your professors, you should be using it more wisely!" _Snap, crack, snap! _Three harsh blows fell across that plush backside, each one indenting that flesh and giving it a small bounce, leaving behind an angry red welt. They were even harder than the first time he'd caned the student.

Immediately after the cane landed, as with the first time Lovino had felt its fury, there was a second or two during which he felt nigh nothing at all; but all too soon, it sent a line of fire shooting across his buttocks. This was even worse than the first time! He gave an angry, pained _"NNGH!"_ into the soap as the cane came down again, and a third time, setting his backside ablaze with that fericous sting he'd never _conceived of_ until he'd first felt it. It forced froth and saliva out the sides of his mouth, which began to trickle down his chin and drip every so often into the sink.

"You keep that soap in your mouth, or I'll add five strokes every time it's dropped!" Arthur warned before he gave another two more—_crack, thwack!_—this time to the backs of the student's upper thighs.

When the next two strokes cut into his thighflesh, Lovino bit down hard into the bar, "Nn-ngh-h!" causing more lather to froth up in his mouth. The Italian was soon gagging again, his body shaking each time his throat heaved at the vile taste. His eyes were tearing up something fiercely now from the odious combination of the horrific pain and the horrific soap.

"Breathe through your nose, you ignorant boy!" Arthur chastised, "and watch your jaw! Bite it in half, and you'll have to worry about not swallowing it!" Though he'd already been trying to breathe through his nose—no shit!—Lovino did heed Kirkland's second piece of advice to loosen his jaw, for the love of god not wanting to break the bar of soap. But then how was he supposed to keep a good grip on it, if not with his teeth? _Snap, crack, crack_! Three more blows lined those full cheeks, one of them crossing a previous welt. The cane was new, not as flexible as he would have liked, but it was good enough to get the job done.

Lovino tightened his lips as much as he could, and the next several blows forced muffled cries out around the bar, "Mmph! Mngh! _Mmhhhn-n-n-n_..." and the tears that had been burning at his eyes started to overflow. The throbbing pain in his backside was multiplied, and he could still feel the sensitive welts throbbing on the side of his left leg.

_Snap-snap_! Next, Kirkland landed two more swift strokes in quick succession, one to the sensitive underside of his ass and one to his thighs, so rapidly that the young man gave a single loud yelp for the both of them. That hurt like_ hell._ Distracted for the moment from concentrating on breathing through his nose, he attempted to gasp in a breath around the soap, but found himself choking on the the tiny bubbles that were again starting to fill his mouth. His tongue tried to force some of the suds out, but because he was no longer holding the soap with his teeth, he found it sliding precariously far forward. His lips clamped down as hard as they possibly could, and he managed to keep hold of the bar, for now. Another desperate tear burnt a trail down his cheek, and he knew that if there were any more blows coming, he had no hope left of maintaining his grip on the soap.

Arthur was quite impressed with Lovino's endurance, to be sure. Even the Englishman was panting lightly from giving those strokes of the cane—though perhaps his shallow breath also had something to do with the fact that he seemed to have become aroused again. So the man was a sadist; he'd learned to be. Having power over another human being was a thrill, and when you'd learned how to always get away with it... The cane tapped against that striped backside, light enough that it wouldn't do more damage but still firmly enough to irritate the reddening welts. "You did well, Lovino. You're the first boy I've ever had to keep that soap in your mouth for the full ten strokes." Rather than following the stereotypical convention of 'six of the best,' it seemed that ten was Arthur's standard. Now the professor stepped up beside his student, reaching up to take the soap out again. "Spit," he directed again, standing close.

Lovino didn't even need to be told; he spat out the frothy lather that had again filled his mouth as soon as the soap was removed. The student continued to cough and spit, trying to rid himself of the taste as much as the soap itself. He rubbed his tongue around his mouth, trying to get every last bubble out as well as inducing salivation to help rid himself of that bleachy, bitter taste that seemed now to be coating his entire oral cavity; however, in spite of his efforts, it didn't seem to be going away. His hands released their grip on the sink, and he straightened up, wiping his eyes and mouth with one of his shirt sleeves, though the tears did not stop falling just because he had dried them. His face was pink, tear- and spittle-stained, and his chin wrinkled in a painful frown. Once he'd straightened up, he forced himself to meet his instructor's eyes with his own reddened ones.

"Now… I want you to get on your knees, and tell me _thank you, _for cleaning your filthy mouth." And with that, Kirkland took a step back, dropping the soap into the sink for now. Holding the cane out in front of him with both hands so that it laid horizontally, he smirked. "And, of course, you will kiss the cane."

But just as he had been willful enough to endure such harsh punishment without dropping the soap, so his horrified stubbornness came through in response to Kirkland's latest demand. Lovino scowled and took a step back. "No way am I going to thank you for that—!" he bit his lip to hold back a swear word. It still tasted of the soap, and the corners of his mouth contorted even more at that fact. He backed away several more steps in the direction of the door, having forgotten that it was locked. Even now, he moved with a slight limp.

Arthur managed to keep his anger from rising this time, though he did raise an eyebrow. He watched the student move towards the door, straightening his back to stand as tall as he could. "Oh, what's this? And here I thought you'd learned your lesson... I was going to let you off easy, you know. But I can see that's not how you want this... Very well." He sighed, looking oh-so-disappointed. Stepping towards the younger, he reached out to grasp the front of his student's shirt before Lovino could even make it to the door. Yanking in towards himself, he stepped to the side and left one leg out for the Italian to trip on. Lovino's usual lack of physical grace was only accented by the fact that his pants were currently around his knees, and it didn't take much in the way of effort for the professor to trip him. He hit the floor tiles hard, which knocked a breathy "Unph!" out of his body on impact. Arthur was following just as fast, his knee slamming down onto Lovino's lower back, keeping him pinned along with a hand on those shoulders, making it painful for the Italian to struggle much or try to get up again. He could see the cane being raised out of the corner of his eye, and he uttered a pitiful-sounding _"No!"_ as the sound of it swishing through the air permeated the bathroom.

Kirkland rose the cane up high, bringing it down on those welted cheeks. _Snap, swack, crack!_ The sounds produced by the implement echoed tumultuously through the bathroom. It cut into Lovino's flesh like a knife, once, twice, thrice, the fierce sting seeming to flood his entire body with pain and shock. And where the new cuts overlapped some of the old welts... there was no describing that throbbing intensity. The young Italian was now gasping and sobbing, his hands clenched tightly into fists and arms flailing against the floor heedlessly, almost as if he were throwing a massive tantrum. His feet kicked hard, at first just from the pain but soon in an attempt to free himself, though the Englishman was situated far up enough on his back that even the more enthusiastic kicks couldn't actually reach him. Arthur's green eyes looked on stoically as the welts overlapped, the skin deepening in color even further and rising up into ridged red lines, and he could see some bruising forming now from how hard he'd been striking earlier.

_Thwack-snap, crack_! Several more strokes landed in swift succession, and Lovino's backside felt quite literally as if it had been set on fire. His lungs were heaving, tears poured down his cheeks, and his body felt almost in shock. "_STOP!_" he screamed out, really unable to tolerate any more pain like this. The shout echoed through the bathroom, and if only someone had been in the hallway they would surely have heard, but the student didn't seem to be so lucky. "Please, please stop..." he sputtered pitifully, crossing his arms in front of him and burying his face into them deeply. His legs bent sharply and his feet came up to cover his horrifically burning bottom, jerking away initially when they pressed against the harsh marks on the backs of his thighs, but far less concerned about the pain than that he shield his wounded buttocks from further torment. He had no way to determine if the damp sensation he felt behind him was sweat or blood, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to find out, fearing the worst.

Arthur felt no pity in him at the moment, nor any mercy; he'd given Lovino an option and the boy had not taken it. When that shout came, the cane stilled mid-strike, lifted high into the air and ready to come crashing down again. Legs bent and covered his target, causing the professor to frown. The only thing that kept him from jerking those legs back down and continuing the flogging was the heavy sobbing coming from the brunet, and well, at least he'd said _please. _Lowering the cane to his side, he gave a swift sigh. "You could have avoided this. Are you ready to behave, then? You'll get on your knees, and you'll thank me for cleaning your filthy mouth. _And_ kiss the cane. Are we understood?" Arthur asked firmly.

After several seconds of trying to catch his breath, Lovino lifted his head from his arms and looked back at Arthur, his face reddened and wet and his lips pressed together tightly. But he gave several small nods. "Yes... understood, sir," he said quietly, his voice strained and tense. It was as if he had to somehow force his voice past the painful knot that had grown in his throat from crying. When Kirkland stood and released him, holding the cane out before him yet again, he gingerly lowered his legs back down to the floor and lifted his upper body from the cool tile with his arms, wiping his face again with a dry part of his sleeve once he had risen to his knees. No longer fighting back; the overwhelming pain had finally subjugated him for now. He stared at the floor as he spoke in a still-tense voice, gasping every so often from the throbbing burn in his backside, "Thank you, sir... for cleaning my filthy mouth." The words came slowly and deliberately, and after he had spoken them, he leaned forward to place a light kiss on the cane the other was now holding before him.

Arthur quite enjoyed wielding power over others, and seeing this proud, rich little Italian reduced to sitting on his knees with a tearstained face and a thoroughly-striped ass was a thrill he wouldn't soon forget. However, that left him with one lingering issue... He was still rock-hard. "Well now, that would normally be the end of your lesson today..." Arthur smirked, "but we have one more issue to address, don't we? I believe you said I needed to _get laid_... But I was recently, wasn't I? Perhaps you should remedy your mistakes then, and do better this time. Why don't you show me what you can do with a _clean _mouth, hm?" One thick eyebrow rose, and the amusement drained from his voice now. "One word of refusal or brush of teeth, however, and I'll show you everywhere else this cane can get to. The bottoms of your feet, your palms, even between your thighs..."

It took a few seconds before it dawned on Lovino exactly what he was being told to do. He understood why he was on his knees now, and the thought turned his stomach, a feeling which he didn't bother to suppress in his facial expression. He regretted wholeheartedly ever having said those words, that _Kirkland needed to get laid_—but who could have known at the time that he was being overheard! And anyway, it wasn't as if his assessment had been inaccurate, if the man had to resort to doing such things with a _student_, and hardly a willing one at that... Damn it all. Lovino knew well, however, that in no way could he tolerate any more pain right now; _anything_ would be better than feeling more of that cane, as far as he was concerned. In the end, he looked up at Arthur with a glaring, fiercely resistant look on his wet and reddened face, but nodded his acquiescence.

"Very good." Arthur said with a satisfied smile, and he undid his pants without putting down the cane. No, he wasn't about to let that go! That was his reminder, his status right now, and should it prove to be necessary, he was more than willing to use it on his student some more. The boy seemed to be submissive for now, though, and the professor gave a small sigh of relief when his erection was freed from the tight confines of his pants, stepping up to Italian just close enough for Lovino's mouth to be able to reach it if he leaned forward. Licking his own lips, his grin was a little cocky, perhaps; but with the sight before him just now, who could blame him? Tapping the side of Lovino's thigh with the cane, he spoke up, his voice even now not completely devoid of amusement. "Come on then, I don't have all day."

For the first few seconds, Lovino just knelt there and stared; however, that tap on his thigh from the cane was quite enough encouragement to begin, as it struck very near where the blows from earlier still throbbed. Nose wrinkled in distaste, he leaned forward, his tongue protruding from his mouth to give a first few hesitant licks to Kirkland's shaft, which initially earned him a pleased hiss of encouragement from the Englishman. Soon, however, he realized that this was not going to be enough to satisfy his professor in the way he was being demanded, and he finally opened his mouth and allowed it to wrap around the tip of the man's penis. His head slid down along Kirkland's length, not as deep into Lovino's mouth as it could go by any means—but then, he wasn't about to be enthusiastic about it! The young Italian moved his mouth up and down along the shaft, sucking at it a bit but not making much of an effort with his tongue or lips. He was just going through the motions, assuming that this was just another power thing and that should be good enough, right?

No, it wasn't good enough at all; while it definitely _was _a power trip to have another man's mouth on your cock against his will, to Arthur's mind, this was just pathetic. After the first few licks, those unenthusiastic sucks only earned a brief sound of irritation. Switching the cane to his left hand, his right moved to grasp the back of Lovino's hair, tugging hard enough to make the Italian hiss painfully. "Because I can see you're not going to take this _seriously, _it looks as if I'll have to do it _myself._" And with that, he thrust his hips forward, intentionally slamming into the back of the boy's throat. Lovino gagged hard when Arthur's cock hit the back of his throat forcefully, barely keeping his wits about him enough not to bite down. God only knew how much worse _that_ would have made things for him!

Kirkland pulled back but not out, and his next thrust into the stubborn boy's mouth was much more shallow, not enough to gag him this time. "Ngh, do you _get it _now, princess? Put your useless tongue to some good use, or I swear I'll stretch your throat out some more!"

Tears had welled up in the student's eyes again from having been choked like that. _Shit_, his instructor expected him to take this seriously and make a real attempt to give him pleasure—and Lovino was certain by now that Kirkland did not make idle threats. His head began to take the Englishman into his mouth more deeply, and in response to that demand, his tongue did come into play, flicking back and forth across the underside of Arthur's shaft as he moved along its length, and starting to suck a bit harder at the man's cock as he did so.

Arthur groaned when that tongue began to move, and that suction was getting stronger. "Ohhh, good lad... Yes, just like that..." he praised, his grip on the back of the boy's head lessening. He still rocked his hips a bit, just enough to complement the motion that the student was putting into it. It wasn't enough of course, so he had to make up for the difference somehow! "_Your hand_, princess. Use your hand to touch what you can't get with your mouth! Haven't you ever gotten a blowjob from anyone, a rich bastard like yourself?"

_Of course I have_, Lovino thought indignantly, though there was no way for him to voice his protest with that cock still in his mouth. What, was he supposed to have been taking notes on every single technique? It wasn't as if he'd ever anticipated doing this himself, and anyway, he wasn't some kind of anal-retentive bastard like Kirkland! His eyebrows lowered in a scowl, but he did reach a hand up to wrap around Arthur's base, and began to move it along with his mouth as he bobbed his head along the man's length as he'd been instructed. Frankly, he didn't want to risk more abuse.

Arthur watched the emotions flicker across that precious face, delighted by how much his student seemed to be fighting his own ego in order to make himself comply. Giving a low, sinister chuckle, he added, "You don't make me come like this, and I'll be thrusting against that welted ass of yours instead!"

His backside was, indeed, still burning fiercely, and traumatizing it any further was something the Italian definitely wanted to avoid. At that threat, Lovino began to move faster up and down the Englishman's erection, sucking harder still and flicking his tongue up each time it met with the tip of his shaft, allowing it to flap back and forth with the movement of his mouth. He used his hand to wrap snugly around Arthur's base and pull the skin taut, then began to circle around the head with his tongue, which was bound to be even more sensitive that way. Now he used the flat part of that slick muscle to rub firmly back and forth against the underside of the head. If _that_ didn't make his professor feel good, then Lovino wasn't a man.

Indeed, Arthur finally began to make low sounds of pleasure at these new little methods that the boy was discovering. Nothing could make a man act more than desperation! The hand lingering on Lovino's head began to run its fingers through that short brown hair now, no longer pulling him along that length, rather praising more than anything. "Ah, haah.._._" The Englishman's lips had to part as his breath grew heavier, even if he wished that he could hold out for as long as possible. Every moment he resisted coming was another moment of humbling for this spoiled Italian. "Good, yes... that's more like it..."

Lovino continued to suck at Arthur's cock, still improvising with his tongue as he went. His hand began to move in time with his mouth again, and he picked up speed with it, encouraged by those low, pleasurable noises coming from his professor. He wanted the other to come as quickly as possible, to get this over with, and he definitely didn't want the Englishman to fulfill that threat of slamming into his brutalized backside. Yes, with as badly as his ass was still stinging, he would far rather be on his knees than sitting down right now. He tugged at his professor's arousal with his mouth, concentrating his firmer sucking exclusively on the head and letting his hand stroke the rest of the man's length. The tip of his tongue flicked up and down as he did so, giving as much stimulation to the most sensitive parts of Arthur's shaft as possible.

"Oh yes, that's_ wonderful…_" Whether Lovino wanted to hear these praises or not, he was getting them, as Arthur wasn't one to skip praise for something done _well_. "Much better..." Lovino couldn't help but appreciate the praise, as it was a rare thing for him to hear, and even more rare coming from Kirkland. He kept up what he was doing, all the little things that brought forth those pleased sounds and words, but it was _only to save his own skin_, not because he actually wanted to make his instructor feel good!

With those more enthusiastic ministrations, Arthur could feel his climax coming, and such a cocktail of emotions with it that he couldn't hold it back any longer. He'd won, again, against this prat of an Italian! The boy really had no class, and he didn't know how to get his way here, and Arthur intended to make sure that he never did. That was why something as simple as bad-mouthing his professor couldn't be allowed! If he went off spreading those bad things about Arthur, others might lose respect (not to mention fear) as well. He had to break this student in, in every way possible… And with that thought, he gripped the back of Lovino's hair again, hips giving a jerk forward as he came, shuddering and with a low groan. He was careful that he wasn't so deep in Lovino's mouth as to choke the boy, but he made damn sure to release himself into the back of his throat.

Lovino felt those fingers tighten in his hair, and soon after, he felt a heat spill onto his tongue and a salty, slightly basic taste enter his mouth. Relative to the soap, it wasn't as gag-inducing, but it was still far from pleasant! The Italian scowled at the mild bitterness, trying to pull his face away so as to get as little ejaculate in his mouth as possible, but Kirkland's hand in his hair prevented him from escaping those final few thrusts into it. Giving his student's thigh a stinging swat with the cane, the Brit growled, "_Swallow it._"

His teacher's instructions were as if he had read Lovino's mind; he had intended to spit it all out at the first possible opportunity. Unhappily, he swallowed what he could of the slick substance, sputtering a bit as the taste hit the back of his tongue and sending a drip or two running down his chin, but it was nothing he'd done purposefully. A sick feeling hit his stomach at the realization that he was on his knees right now, in front of a man he despised, having just swallowed his semen, not to mention the burning sting of the welts that covered his ass and thighs... it was degrading in ways he had never conceived of before, and he couldn't keep all of this from showing on his face.

For Arthur, that expression was simply priceless. It made the professor's smile all the more smug as he stared down at his humiliated student, pulling back, and the Italian sucked in a deep, needful breath of air through his mouth after the man withdrew himself from it. Reaching down, Kirkland used his thumb to wipe up what had started to trickle from the sides of his student's mouth, and Lovino was almost grateful. Grateful, that is, until that thumb shoved past those lips and into his mouth, making sure it was cleaned by wiping its contents right onto that slick tongue before he pulled it back out, as if to make sure the boy swallowed every drop. The Italian student's face darkened, indignant, but he knew better than to protest at this point.

"There, there, lad. You weren't half bad," Arthur said with all the mockingly soothing voice that he could muster. "A little virginal, but then that can't be helped, can it?" he added with a haughty smirk. The Englishman gave Lovino's cheek a pat, then moved to grab a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped the student's saliva from his spent member. Tossing it into the trash, he fixed his pants. "Well now, you didn't get any pleasure this time, did you? Perhaps if you had been _good, _I might have been a little more kind to you."

Lovino scowled at that, then even more so at being referred to as '_virginal_'; he was still bitter about their previous encounter, as well. And as far as not having gotten any so-called 'pleasure' out of it, perhaps he hadn't, but he didn't _want_ to! This whole mess was sickening, and quite frankly he didn't trust himself to speak, not wanting to feel the man's wrath anymore than he already had.

Arthur crossed his arms for a moment, staying quiet. After a brief silence between them, he spoke again. "... If you want, I'll at least put some ointment on those welts of yours."

Lovino couldn't deny that it would be a good idea to have his injuries tended to, and as much antipathy as he may have had for the man at that moment, it would be better for his reputation to have Kirkland do it than for anyone else to find out how soundly he'd been beaten. "That…" he reached back and ran his fingers tenderly over the welts, which were still raised and some even sticky—to his shock, it seemed that his teacher had indeed drawn blood— "that's probably the best idea," he conceded, nodding. He should have found it ominous that Kirkland had bought a cane '_just for him_'; now, of course, he realized why. It wouldn't do to use the same implement on another student, not with the knowledge that it might come in contact with Lovino's bodily fluids. Kirkland had beaten him much harder, and given many more strokes than last time.

"Alright then, stand up." Arthur patted the sink again. He set the cane against the opposite wall, carefully positioning his own body between it and Lovino, then reached into his pocket again. The little jar he pulled out was round and made of tin, and he screwed off the lid easily. Lovino stood and stepped carefully over to the sink, placing his hands on either side of the basin and resting his weight on them. Once he had bent over the sink, Arthur first wet a paper towel to pat at the abused skin. The welts were more than sensitive to the touch, and even a wet paper towel felt terribly abrasive against them. Lovino's eyes shut tightly, hissing at the painful feeling as they were patted clean. Tossing the towel away, the Englishman dipped his fingers into the ointment. "This should keep them from getting infected at any rate, though it may tingle for a while," he stated simply as he spread the slippery substance over those welts. Arthur gave a slight sigh. "You really could be a bright boy, Lovino, if you weren't so damned arrogant."

The ointment was less irritating than the paper towel as it was initially applied, but shortly afterward it was indeed producing an uncomfortable tingling sensation, causing Lovino to squirm a bit in response. Arthur watched that uncomfortable wiggle with a slight smile, going about his business with equanimity even as his student protested his comments. "I'm not stupid! Sometimes I don't even know _how_ I get myself into the messes I do," the Italian commented ruefully, but honestly.

Those words only earned more of a smile though, and the Englishman chuckled as well. "At least you're honest, I'll give that one to you. You're a pain in the arse, but you're bright." He gave Lovino's welted bottom a pat as he finished applying the ointment, wiping his hand off with a fresh paper towel before replacing the lid, all the while continuing to lecture. "It shouldn't always take so much _force _to make you behave, however. I wouldn't have given any more than ten if you'd have just done what you were told, you know. You could have spared yourself the added pain and been done with it! Wouldn't that have been better, hm?"

"Maybe," Lovino muttered in response to his teacher's assessment. But the student didn't make any further comment; he had been of the opinion that the whole ordeal had been unfair and hardly deserved from the start, but he didn't figure that arguing his case could possibly do him any good now, and so he quickly changed the subject. "Do I need to wait for it to dry or anything?" he asked, a bit impatient to put himself back together and leave.

The diversion was obvious enough to Arthur, though he didn't fault the Italian and simply responded to his query. "It won't stain your clothes, and it soaks in rather quickly, so no worry about pulling your trousers up if you like," he explained, and Lovino gave a small nod to indicate he'd understood. "You may stay in here as long as you need to put yourself back in order." It was a good thing that Arthur had learned well, perhaps from an age as young as Lovino's, how to hide any indication of his own amusement, because he was terribly pleased with himself right now. The tone in his voice betrayed nothing, conveying only sternness as he admonished, "I sincerely hope I won't have to see you like this again." It was a lie. He thoroughly hoped that he would; after all, there was still _so much more_ to teach the boy…

"No, sir." Lovino's was a simple statement, but ultimately just as unlikely as Arthur's to be true, though the student was much more sincere in his words than his professor had been. Satisfied with that response, Arthur moved over to the wall where he'd set his cane and collected the implement before leaving the bathroom and heading, presumably, back to his office. He left the soap behind, still lying in the bottom of the sink basin, making his point clearly enough.

After Kirkland had gone, Lovino took up the task of dressing himself again. His hands reached down toward his knees, and he pulled his boxers up first, carefully holding the waistband away from his chastised backside as he righted them, then did the same with his trousers before standing upright and fastening them. It hurt, to be sure, but at the moment, he desperately wanted to pull himself together and get the hell out of that bathroom. Once he'd righted his trousers, he looked in the mirror, and upon seeing what a mess he looked even now, splashed his face liberally with cold water—partly to disguise the evidence of his tears, partly to rinse off the mess around his mouth, which he still felt clinging to his lips even after Kirkland had ostensibly wiped it off—until he looked reasonably put-together and prepared enough to leave the bathroom. As he stared into the mirror at his own miserable reflection, he made up his mind never to be humiliated by his professor against his will again…


End file.
